by Rose Pearson
“The master said we must not!”
A sudden whisper had Georgiana’s ears pricking up, her body straightening, her head lifting from the door.
“I tell you, I heard something.”
“That doesn’t matter,” came the first, louder voice. “The master said we were not to go near this room. It doesn’t matter what’s inside it.”
“Please!”
Georgiana could not help but speak aloud, her heart clamoring furiously. “Please, might you let me out?”
There came nothing but silence for a long minute, leaving Georgiana fearful that the two voices—whoever they belonged to—had been chased away.
“I have done nothing wrong,” she said hoarsely, one hand pressed to the door. “Lord Poole hit me across the head and brought me here. Please, my brother is at the door. He is looking for me. I want to go to him. Please!”
Again, there came nothing but silence to her pleas, leaving Georgiana frightened she was to remain precisely where she was until Lord Poole decided what he was to do with her.
“Are you...are you a lady?”
The voice was uncertain, afraid even, but Georgiana felt a thrill of hope run up her spine as she spoke frantically.
“Yes, I am a lady of quality,” she answered, breathless with a rush of anticipation. “I am betrothed to Lord Poole.”
“Then why are you locked in there?”
The second voice was more accusing now, the tone less certain and a little wary. Georgiana could not blame them. Were she in their position, she would also feel uncertain.
“I do not know,” she answered truthfully. “I was to cry off from my engagement to Lord Poole, and the next thing I know, I am awake here, in this dark room, with no understanding of where I am or why I am here.” She shook her head, her throat aching. “Please, my brother, Lord Allerton is at the door now. I have seen him arrive. I know he is looking for me.”
She said nothing more, forcing her lips closed as she waited for the two voices to confer about what they ought to do. She wanted to demand that they obey, wanted to force them to do as she asked, but knew she should say nothing of the sort. The fear a servant has over their master’s demands could often be a greater impetus than anything else, and she well understood that.
“You say you are a lady of quality, engaged to Lord Poole?” said the first voice, again holding considerable uncertainty. “And he has put you here?”
“My name is Lady Georgiana,” she said, a catch in her voice as she tried her best to keep her emotions tightly under control. “My brother is the Earl of Allerton. Please, I do not want to be here. I want to go to my brother.”
She heard a whispered conference between the two voices, hearing snatches of their conversation.
“We will lose our positions and have no references!” said the second voice. “What then?”
“I will make sure you both have positions with my brother’s household,” Georgiana cried, one hand flat against the door as she fought against desperation, knowing that this was her only opportunity to break free from this room. “With better pay, I assure you. The household is good; my brother is kind. You need not fear for your livelihood.”
Closing her eyes, Georgiana began to pray the two women would take pity on her, that they would be willing to do as she asked even in spite of their fears about their master. She held her breath, praying with every ounce of her being that God above would help her break free.
And then, she heard a key scrape in the lock.
Weak and trembling with relief, Georgiana stepped back as the door opened, revealing two young maids standing together wordlessly, their eyes huge as they looked at Georgiana.
“Thank you,” she whispered, seeing the candle flickering on a small table to her left. “Thank you.” Moving forward slowly, she tried to get her bearings but felt hopelessly lost. “Where am I?”
“In Mr. Forester’s house, my lady,” squeaked one of the maids, clearly either overwhelmed with what she saw or now terrified of what she had done. “He told us not to come up here to this room, but I’m afraid we were much too curious.”
Georgiana leaned heavily on the table but picked up the candle, seeing a dull light coming from one corner of the hallway. “I am very grateful to you both,” she answered, weakly. “What are your names?”
“Sophie and Bess, my lady.”
Georgiana nodded, giving them both a weak smile. “I will make sure you both have a good position in my brother’s house,” she promised. “Now, where is the front door to the house?”
The second maid, who had said nothing up until this point, stretched out one hand in the direction of the dull light. “The stairs are that way, my lady,” she answered, shakily. “The master told us not to light any candles up this way. You have the only one.”
Georgiana nodded and began to make her way towards the light. “Then I must take it,” she said hearing the sound of knocking and realizing that her brother and Mr. Lowell had not yet been granted entry to the house. Her heart in her throat, she grasped the handrail and began to make her way down the staircase, afraid that, at any moment, Lord Poole might appear and step in her way.
A figure moved towards the front door, and Georgiana took an instinctive step back, her feet making no noise on the staircase. Her hand still holding the candle, she watched carefully, seeing a man she did not recognize moving slowly towards front door, his steps slow. Keeping as quiet as she could, Georgiana willed the man on, silently begging him to open the door. Her fingers slipped on the silver and gold ribbons that had been tied to the staircase rail, proclaiming the joy of Christmas and the expectation of the happiness that would soon come with the Season—but at this moment, Georgiana felt nothing but abject fear.
“Who is there?”
The man’s voice was loud and authoritative, ringing through the house.
“It is Lord Allerton,” she heard her brother say, fighting back the urge to rush towards the door and to, somehow, thrust the man out of her way and unlock the door herself. “I must be allowed entry at once.”
“I am afraid the master is neither acquainted with nor expecting you,” she heard the man say. “Good evening, sir.”
The banging on the door resumed with a great deal more force, but as Georgiana watched, the man turned around and slowly made his way back to wherever he had come from. Her heart began to quicken, her nervousness growing steadily. Clearly, this man was not about to let her brother and Mr. Lowell in. None of the staff would do such a thing either, which meant it was solely down to her.
Her hand trembled on the handrail as she began to make her way down the next few stairs. There were only a few candles lit in the hallway below her, but there was enough light to see the key in the door’s lock. All she had to do was reach the door and turn the key, for surely then that would allow her brother entry.
“In heaven’s name!”
A loud exclamation caught her ears and, as she turned, she saw none other than Lord Poole staring down at her from the top of the staircase. He wore no coat nor cravat, his shirt untucked and his hair in complete disarray. With a shriek, she dropped her candle and raced down the rest of the staircase, hearing him coming thundering behind her. Another scream ripped from her mouth as she tore towards the front door, her hands going to the key as she tried desperately to turn it. She could hear her brother calling her name, could hear Mr. Lowell’s voice loud and frantic as he called for her. At any moment, she expected Lord Poole’s hand to grasp at her, turning her head to look as her hands slipped on the key, her fingers damp with nerves.
She had dropped the candle on the staircase and, as such, the flames had caught the Christmas ribbons that had been tied to the handrail. Lord Poole had been forced to stop to put them out, buying her a precious few seconds. He was rushing towards her now, his face bright red with rage, and his eyes narrowed with fury—but just as he put out a hand and grasped her shoulder, the key turned in the lock, and her hands fell from it.
&nb
sp; “How dare you?” He had grasped her tightly by the arm now and was physically hauling her away, but before she could react, before she could even say a word, the front door had been thrown open, and both Lord Allerton and Mr. Lowell were standing framed in the doorway.
Georgiana was not quite sure what happened next. She was flung back awkwardly, her head hitting the wall behind her as something crashed and smashed to the ground. Lord Poole’s hand was tight on her arm still but, eventually, it began to loosen until she was finally free of him. Her vision was blurry, seeing three figures but not quite being able to make them all out.
Until the voice of her brother reached her ears, and a gentle hand took her own.
“Georgiana?” Lord Allerton’s voice was urgent. “Georgiana? Are you quite all right?”
She blinked rapidly, her vision clearing. “Allerton,” she breathed, one hand pressed to her head as she squeezed his fingers. “You have found me.”
He gave her a tight smile, and she stood up straight, aware of the dull pain in her head but managing to ignore it. “Lord Poole took me here?”
Mr. Lowell, who had been standing over the prone figure of Lord Poole, turned around and looked straight into her eyes, his face a picture of concern. “You are all right, Lady Georgiana?”
Georgiana could not take her eyes from him, wanting to step into his arms, wanting him to hold her tight against him, but knowing she could not do so in front of her brother. “I am well,” she answered, wincing just a little as she gestured to her head. “A slight headache, but aside from that...” Looking all about her, she raised her eyes to her brother. “This is not Lord Poole’s townhouse?”
“No,” her brother grated, angrily. “It is not.” He looked to Mr. Lowell, who nodded in silent agreement to whatever it was Lord Allerton was thinking. “Lock the door, Mr. Lowell, and then let us drag Lord Poole into the drawing-room where he might be more obliged to tell us the truth of the matter.”
Georgiana was about to ask if they might find something for her to drink when a quiet, quavering voice floated down from the top of the staircase.
“Poole?”
Georgiana froze, looking at Mr. Lowell in shock but remaining utterly silent as they all listened.
“Lord Poole?” came the voice again. “Whatever is the matter? I heard the most awful noise, and I—oh!”
Hardly able to believe what she was seeing, Georgiana stared up at Lady Northcott, who had only just begun to descend the stairs. Her hair was in a simple plait, but aside from that, she was well dressed in a beautiful evening gown. She stared at Georgiana, then moved her gaze to Lord Allerton and finally to Mr. Lowell, her mouth a little ajar and her eyes wide with fright.
“Lady Northcott,” Mr. Lowell breathed, glancing towards Lord Poole, who was still semi-conscious from the blow to the head that Lord Allerton had planted on him. “I see.”
Georgiana shook her head in disbelief, thinking to herself that things were becoming all the more convoluted.
“Might you join us in the drawing-room, Lady Northcott?” Lord Allerton said in a tone that was not at all open to questioning. “At once.”
Lady Northcott swallowed hard, her mouth opening and closing in an evident attempt to express herself, but in the end, she said nothing at all. Quite afraid, she stepped down the staircase, holding the handrail tightly as she did so. Her chin lifted as she drew near Lord Allerton, although she did not once look towards Georgiana.
“The drawing-room, if you please,” Lord Allerton said gesturing for the lady to step forward. Lady Northcott held his gaze for a moment longer, then, seeming to quail beneath it, did as she was instructed and moved forward without hesitation—although she did not so much as glance at Lord Poole, nor at Mr. Lowell.
A sudden realization dawned. “This is her townhouse,” Georgiana breathed, looking at her brother, who was nodding grimly. “That is what you think?”
“I believe so,” Lord Allerton answered, patting Georgiana gently on the shoulder, although his expression remained the same. “I think there is more to this situation than there first appears, Georgiana.” He turned to her a little more, looking at her directly in the eye. “Do you wish to return home? I can leave Mr. Lowell here and take you to Lady Allerton directly.”
She shook her head, now wanting to find out the truth behind Lord Poole’s attempts to steal her from her brother as well as his association with Lady Northcott. “I would like to remain here,” she told him with a small smile that seemed to bolster her courage. “I want to know the truth.”
He nodded. “Very well,” he said, turning to Mr. Lowell. “Mr. Lowell, if you might take my sister into the drawing-room and sit with her there.” He eyed Lord Poole, who was now groaning and attempting to sit up. “I will ensure Lord Poole makes his way into the room without delay.”
Mr. Lowell smiled gently at Georgiana, clearly trying to reassure her. “But of course,” he said softly in answer to Lord Allerton’s question. Leaving Lord Poole to be dealt with by her brother, Mr. Lowell came towards Georgiana, his hand outstretched. Georgiana took it at once, feeling the surge of warmth rush all through her as their fingers met.
“You have done very well, Lady Georgiana,” he murmured, his other hand settling about her waist as he drew her into him, allowing her to lean on him, a breath of relief escaping from her. “I can’t tell you just how relieved I am to know you are safe.”
Looking up into his face, Georgiana felt her heart swell with affection and love, knowing she had no choice in the matter as to how she now felt.
“You cannot know just how glad I was to see your face,” she answered as he led her slowly towards the drawing-room. “I feared I would never see it again.”
He smiled at her, his eyes holding hers. “If I had my way, you should never be lost to me again,” he said softly as they left Lord Poole and Lord Allerton behind. He said nothing more, those words burning in her mind as she held his gaze, seeing nothing but him. Her relief at being freed from Lord Poole overwhelmed her. Her future was no longer dark, no longer wreathed in the shadows of loneliness and pain. There would be no Lord Poole; there would be no terror he would strike out at her, would leave her to bear her pain alone. There was nothing now other than a fresh hope, a new light. A light that would find its fulfillment in Mr. Lowell’s arms.
Chapter Twelve
“So, Lord Poole…”
Oliver watched as Lord Allerton spoke gravely to his acquaintance. He himself felt fit to burst with anger, although he was managing to keep such feelings well under control. With Lady Georgiana beside him, his relief was so great it overwhelmed the desire to plant a facer on Lord Poole, knowing full well that had he the opportunity, he would have done precisely the same as Lord Allerton and would have knocked Lord Poole to the ground.
His heart turned over in his chest as he recalled how he had been pounding on the door along with Lord Allerton, only to hear the scream of what they presumed to be Lady Georgiana. Both of them had become almost frantic in their desire to have the door opened, with Oliver thinking of smashing in one of the windows and crawling through, should it come to it.
Thankfully, the key had turned, and within moments, both he and Lord Allerton had managed to make their way through. Seeing Lady Georgiana in Lord Poole’s grasp had set fire to Oliver’s anger, and he had grabbed out at the man, pulling him away from Lady Georgiana, although Lord Poole had not let go. They had knocked into a small table, with a vase of flowers smashing to the floor and, in an attempt to force Lord Poole away from Lady Georgiana, Lord Allerton had punched the fellow hard in the face, knocking him to the ground.
How glad he was now that Lady Georgiana was safe.
“What do you want, Allerton?”
Lord Poole’s eyes were angry, his face red on one side where Lord Allerton had punched him.
“I want to know why you took my sister away,” Lord Allerton said with more calmness than Oliver had expected. “Why you decided to kidnap her and take her to your
mistress’s house.”
Lady Georgiana gasped, her eyes flaring wide as a slight shock ran through Oliver. Lady Northcott was Lord Poole’s mistress?
Lord Poole threw his head back and laughed gruffly as though Lord Allerton had made the most ridiculous assertion.
“Lady Northcott is not my mistress,” he said darkly as Lady Northcott’s eyes began to spill with tears. “And as for your sister, Lord Allerton, I think you will find that the fault is with her.”
Oliver squeezed Lady Georgiana’s hand tightly, seeing how she jerked forward, clearly wanting to refute this, but he knew there was no need. Lord Allerton was not about to believe his acquaintance over his sister, and besides which, there was no reason for anyone to do what Lord Poole had done. Lady Georgiana looked at him, her face a little flushed, but Oliver merely smiled at her, wanting to reassure her as best he could. There was no need for her to defend herself.
“What fault is that?” Lord Allerton asked softly, his voice seeming to fill the room even though he was speaking quietly. “What was it my sister did that merited such dire consequences?”
Lord Poole sniffed and looked away. “She was to cry off.”
“As is her right,” Lord Allerton said his voice now dangerously low. “She was permitted to make such a decision, Lord Poole. Why, then, would you try to stop her?”
Lord Poole lifted his chin, clearly not in the least bit sorrowful over his actions. “I made an agreement with you,” he stated, unequivocally. “I am not a gentleman used to having such agreements abolished.”
“Regardless,” Lord Allerton interrupted before Lord Poole could say more. “If Lady Georgiana wished to step away from the agreement, then she is permitted to do so. I would not have prevented her.”
Oliver glanced at Lady Georgiana, hearing her swift intake of breath. Had she not known that her brother would have permitted her to do such a thing? Or had she feared it was quite impossible?
